


7:34

by androgenius



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Crossover, First Time, Heavy Angst, M/M, Rimming, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:20:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29614875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/androgenius/pseuds/androgenius
Summary: Dimilix Week Day 7 - Crossover (The Last of Us)Dimitri gets bitten. Felix resolves to spend his last night with him.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 5
Kudos: 51
Collections: 2021 Dimilix Week





	7:34

The roller shutter door clatters on its way down before Felix can finally secure it, still panting. For just a moment, he can pretend they weren't about to be eaten alive, an odd sense of peace and stillness setting in.

A quick glance at Dimitri tells him otherwise. 

His arm is caked in blood, his face not much better. It's not their blood-- for the most part, but he knows that their attempt to climb a wire-link fence didn't quite go as planned. 

He also looks almost as exhausted as Felix feels, both of them still fighting to catch their breath. Dimitri lets out a wry laugh as he staggers toward the wall to collapse against it.

"I gotta be honest," he says, impossibly heavy footsteps carrying him over to Dimitri's side. Now that they're not running anymore, it's hitting him just how badly he's overtaxed his muscles. "I really thought we were going to die there."

"Yeah." Dimitri's smile is wry. Felix can guess why. There were others, after all-- just no one they knew personally. 

Even so, it always hurts. 

"We'll wait until daybreak and then start heading back to the camp." Allowing his head to fall back against the wall, Felix lets out a groan. "Fuck."

Dimitri's voice is quiet, resigned. "You might want to head back without me."

A knot forms in his stomach-- tight and heavy, threatening to swell. "What are you talking about, boar?"

He forgets to breathe then, Dimitri's hand easing up his pant leg to reveal an angry bite. The skin is torn, the blood caked on both the fabric of his jeans and his skin very much his own. 

Felix feels like he might be sick.

"N-no, that's--" He swallows. "We don't know that it's a bite from an infected, right? It could just be-- something else." 

"Felix."

He's being stupid, the vice grip around his heart tightening like a noose. If this were anyone else, he'd tell them and all their loved ones that there's no point. He'd probably be the first to offer to pull the trigger. 

But this is _Dimitri_.

"I'm not just letting you give up," he mutters stubbornly, ignoring the imploring stare Dimitri is leveling him with. A plea to be reasonable, to just get it over with. He gets up just to get away from it, arms folded across his chest as he paces. "We're waiting."

"Waiting," Dimitri repeats, staring down at the ground. "For me to turn?"

"Obviously if you start turning I'll pull the trigger," he snaps, angry with himself for his weaknesses, all laid out before him on a silver platter. 

Somehow, they all boil down to _Dimitri_.

"Felix…"

"Don't," he grinds out through gritted teeth. 

He sighs, heavy. "I'm going to turn, Felix. It's only a matter of hours."

"Then we'll make those hours count. I'm not— I'm not just giving up on you. And-- I don't see why you're so eager to give up, either."

They both know he's lying through his teeth. Of course he knows why Dimitri wants to give up. They've seen what happens to people when they turn. The way they turn into monsters as the fungus takes over. The way they can still see fear and guilt and pain in the eyes of some of the earlier mutations of infected, unable to stop themselves from attacking even when they don't want to.

"At least fight it," he mutters, feeling an odd sense of defeat coming over him as he looks at Dimitri. He looks… small, smaller than usual. It almost feels surreal, seeing him like this.

As though he'd always thought of him as immortal, in a way. Untouchable, after everyone else around them died. 

He glances down at his watch, swallowing hard. His father's, really. It's long broken now, ever since Rodrigue's death, forever stuck at 7:34. A stupid, sentimental trinket he should have long thrown out, and yet--

Dimitri is the same, isn't he? A sentimental connection, one he long should have tossed out. Their falling out should have been it, and yet… 

Here he is, at his side. Still. 

Already mourning his death. Even while he lives and breathes naught but a few feet away from him.

Sort of. He can already see the look in Dimitri's eyes-- even downcast, he can recognize the look of a walking corpse. 

He's seen it in so many. But-- not once did he ever think he'd see it in Dimitri.

Even without the slow tick of the static second hand on the face of his watch, he knows that every second is precious now.

"Don't be a coward," he mutters, staring down at his pistol. 

"Mm?"

"Nothing. We're waiting until 7:34." He averts his gaze, taking in a shaky breath as he looks out the windows close to the warehouse's roof, the moonlight shining soft beams of light into the space. "We'll make a decision then."

&

It's been 7:34 for roughly two hours by the time Dimitri starts pulling out pen and paper and writing… letters.

He can't be sure. Not that it matters, not with the moon still high in the sky and no hint of daylight. The important part, then: it hasn't been too long, not yet.

Dimitri is still human, after all. 

"You've been writing for a while."

Dimitri smiles. He's a few paces away, legs crossed in front of him, his back bent over dozens of scattered pages. If he wasn't about to die, Felix would tell him to sit up straight and preserve his back. 

"Most people don't get to do this," Dimitri says. "It feels almost lucky, being able to tell everyone how much they mean to me before I go." 

He glances at Felix's pistol as he says it. 

It's cruel, Felix thinks. As if he should have to be the one to pull the trigger on his best friend.

The alternative is worse, of course. Leaving Dimitri here to lose himself, bit by bit. To encounter him one day, perhaps, and have to shoot him then, more monster than man. Trapped on the inside of a body he can't control.

He doesn't deserve that. 

No one does, really, but-- especially not Dimitri. 

"Who are you even writing to?"

"Oh-- everyone. Everyone who's touched my life in a big way. Dedue, Ingrid, Mercedes, Annette… father, mother, Glenn. Rodrigue, too."

Something inside of him constricts. "Corpses. You're writing letters to corpses." _Instead of me,_ he thinks but doesn't say.

"It only seems appropriate. If this is to be my last act on earth…"

He wonders when Dimitri decided that he shouldn't be included in _everyone_. 

Then again-- he only has himself to blame, doesn't he?

For so long, Felix simply ignored him. Shunned him, after what happened to Glenn. As if it had been Dimitri's fault. The way he'd rushed into fights with infected as if intending to get himself killed, _eager_ to get himself killed--

No wonder he thought Dimitri to be invincible. 

He deserves not to be on the list of people worthy. 

Besides. No one else will get to spend his last hours with him. 

Glancing down at his watch, he frowns. It's still 7:34. And Dimitri still hasn't turned. 

It's not fair. 

His pistol is a good few feet away from him by now, pushed away by Felix as if rejected by his very existence, the thought alone of his killing Dimitri… 

They always agreed it would be each other if they had to pull the trigger. That they'd never allow themselves to hurt anyone else, should they turn. But now, looking at Dimitri's shotgun, he almost thinks it would have been better if they'd both been bitten. _Simpler_.

"You should bite me," he hears himself say, almost aggressive in the way he's _not_ looking at Dimitri, staring at the floor instead. 

Dimitri's head snaps up, eyes wide as he stares. "Felix," he says, horror shining in his eyes. 

"You don't have to say anything. I already know you'd never do that. You want me to live." 

"I do. Of course I do."

Except that it feels impossible without Dimitri still there, still in his life. As though he's burrowed himself so deeply beneath his skin that he could never hope to be extracted without also killing the host. Felix shakes his head. 

How could he have wasted so many years? So many years that he could have shared with Dimitri, gone. Spent without him by his side. 

"It would be less cruel than this," he says, the lump in his throat thick and feeling impossible to swallow. He won't cry. He _won't_. "We could just kill each other and be done with it." Tears threaten, Felix digging his fingernails into his thighs. "It's not-- this doesn't make sense," he snaps, suddenly furious with himself. "What's the fucking _point_ if you're not there!" 

He doesn't wait for Dimitri to answer before getting up and walking away, and Dimitri doesn't stop him, doesn't say anything. 

&

He doesn't cry, just comes close, Felix pacing behind the makeshift privacy of a pillar, some boxes, and a few barrels. 

It's fine.

He's fine.

He comes back after a while. It's still 7:34 when Dimitri slides some pieces of paper toward him. "Do you think we could burn those?"

A glance down at one confirms his suspicions.

"Are those your corpse letters?"

Dimitri nods, Felix letting out a soft sigh. 

"Fine."

They carry one of the barrels over to their area together, Felix pulling out his lighter to start them out. 

They watch the letters burn for a long while before Dimitri tosses the last bits into the barrel with a sigh. 

"I want them to know I'm coming," he whispers, and Felix has to fight the urge to sock him. 

_You're not going anywhere_ , he wants to tell him, but the words won't leave his throat. 

Not even his heart seems willing to release them. Not even in the name of wishful thinking. 

If he could just speak one truth to Dimitri… 

Even then, he's not sure that he could. 

&

Most of his letters are already written and folded, placed in a small stack. 

"If you were to join me," Dimitri says slowly, signing another letter to fold up. "These would never reach their owners." 

Felix scoffs. It's stupid. As if Dimitri knows he's wading through a sea of stupid thoughts, untouchable ones he shouldn't dare approach. All fixed, simply by giving him a task to do. 

He's not even _wrong_. 

Looking at the remaining letters, unburned, he counts. 

"Who's the last one for?"

Dimitri smiles, sad. "You." 

The formerly innocuous, innocent piece of paper suddenly takes on new meaning, its very existence burning into his retinas as he stares at it. 

"No."

"I was always going to die young, Felix," Dimitri says, mirth that doesn't reach his eyes nevertheless in his tone. It's _insulting_ , and once more Felix finds himself fighting tears.

" _Don't_. Don't you dare talk like this, like it was always going to happen, like--" His voice breaks, Felix slapping his hand over his eyes. Not now. _Not now_. He's not ready to cry, not here, not yet. Dimitri is still alive, and they're _wasting time_ \--

"You couldn't have done anything to stop this, Felix."

Except that he _could have_. 

"You didn't need to go on this run with me. I could have gone on my own, I was just stupid and selfish and--" And wanted his company. Fuck, he hates himself. "I was supposed to be your shield, boar."

Dimitri smiles. "Just think. Now we won't have to stress about finding my medication anymore." 

"This isn't _funny_ ," he snaps, tears welling up anew as he chucks his lighter across the room, bouncing off the wall beside Dimitri and landing on the floor with a clatter. Felix can't even bring himself to look at Dimitri. How many pharmacies have they raided for his antipsychotics, just so he could live as normally and happily as anyone else? 

Not enough, Felix thinks. He would have raided a thousand more if it had meant keeping Dimitri around for longer. 

"I'm sorry."

"You should be," he says, and gets up to grab his pistol. 

&

"You know," Dimitri says, cutting through the silence and the darkness with a warmth that shouldn't come from the voice of a dead man walking. "I always thought I'd at least… lose my virginity. Before dying."

Felix falters. 

Of all the things he'd expected Dimitri to say, this wasn't on the list. 

"I," he starts, not sure where he's going with himself at all.

Dimitri chuckles, shaking his head. "It's a silly thing to be thinking about right now. With… everything being what it is."

"It's not."

"I just always thought I'd… find someone. Who'd want that with me."

Something inside of him stirs, sickly. It feels, he thinks, somewhat like jealousy. But not of Dimitri, even if dying sounds preferable to being left alone. Who, then… 

His fingernails scrape along the concrete floor beneath them.

"Mm."

"You don't have to agree for me to know. I know it's a stupid thing to think about at a time like this."

"It's not like--" He feels himself flush, suddenly grateful for the darkness between them. "It's not like I'm any different. I haven't… with anyone."

"I'd probably infect you," Dimitri whispers. 

When did they stop talking about theory and start talking about-- _them_?

"You--" Felix feels his heart hammering in his chest, loud and hard and unrelenting. "It's not like you'd be _biting_ me. I'd be willing to take the risk."

"Felix…"

Whatever was about to come next, Felix doesn't wait to hear it. He's an adult, he can make his own decisions. And right now, kissing Dimitri feels… right. Good. His fingers tighten in his front just as Dimitri dares to deepen the kiss, allowing himself to sink into the feeling of it. 

It's less heady and frenzied than he was expecting given… everything. Instead, Dimitri seems determined to take his time, to kiss him slow and carefully, with the sort of desperation befitting a man in love-- one not dying. 

He decides, in that moment, that he doesn't care.

Instead, he climbs onto Dimitri's lap to straddle him, grinding slowly, as if determined to draw out his own longing and desire for Felix. 

"Felix," Dimitri gasps against his lips, his hands moving to his hips, "this is a bad idea."

"Good," Felix whispers. Most people who know they're about to die get to choose their last meals, as sumptuous or as simple as they wish for it to be. The least he can offer Dimitri is this-- the only thing he never got to do and yet might still regret. "Seems to me like this is the best time to make a bad decision."

Bringing Dimitri's hands to the front of his jeans seems to be all the encouragement he needs, growling as his fingers eagerly undo the top button, the zipper, tugging down the fabric--

"Here," Felix says, moving off of him just far enough to pull his pants down-- only for Dimitri to make his underwear follow right after, his cock bouncing free upon its release from the fabric. 

Getting off of him, he discards both. 

"Go on then, boar," he mutters, getting on all fours atop his clothes. "Fuck me."

Behind him, Dimitri hesitates. "We don't… have anything. To help that. No lubricant."

"You have your mouth, don't you? Fingers?" When Dimitri doesn't react, he reaches back to pull himself open for him. "It's not like I've never pleasured myself, boar. I'm not made of porcelain, _come on_."

For a split second, Felix is almost convinced he's just going to have to prep himself, but then-- it's Dimitri's hands on either side of him, spreading him open and pressing his tongue inside to fuck him with. 

He'd expected fingers at most. But this--

Felix fights to suppress a moan before realizing that this is for Dimitri as much as anything else-- and that they're alone. Completely. 

So he allows himself to be loud, just a little. It's for Dimitri's sake, at any rate.

After all, he'll get to fight to see another day. To fuck anyone he wants to after this, while Dimitri will die here, better off not having turned into a monster. 

He pushes down the tears that threaten to well up once more, Felix whimpering as Dimitri's tongue starts fucking him in earnest.

He realizes he's gaping the second he pulls back, breathless against his skin.

"Finger me," he whispers, sharp-- and Dimitri complies readily, pressing two spit-slicked fingers into him at once. 

A glance down beneath his body and back serves as a good reminder. He's painfully hard, and Dimitri… Dimitri is still dressed, his hand running over his clothed crotch with a groan.

"Fuck," he mutters, feeling Dimitri add a third. "J-just take your cock out already."

It's a thing of greed, he knows. He wants to see Dimitri, wants to be the first to see Dimitri like this, hard and wanting-- and for _him_ , no less.

He stills his fingers temporarily to scissor them somewhat unsteadily as his free hand works to get his pants undone, shimmying them down his legs alongside his own underwear. 

_Fuck_. 

Felix feels his mouth run dry just looking at it, looking at Dimitri stroking it. His thumb can't even touch his other fingers as it wraps around the shaft. 

He must be mad, but seeing him now, like this, he wants him even more desperately, his body clenching around the fingers inside of him, Dimitri adding his tongue.

"Fuck me," he hears himself say, his gaze dropping to his watch. 7:34. "Please, boar--"

Whatever madness that's affecting him must be affecting Dimitri just as badly, pulling his fingers out only to line himself up at his entrance, hand still stroking his cock. "Felix, I--"

"Shut up," Felix says, wincing after the words leave him. Taking his gaze off the watch, he slips it beneath his body to take his own cock in hand. "Just fuck me."

"No, it's--" He clears his throat, the contact disappearing from his entrance a second later. "Not like this."

He's ready to give Dimitri a lecture when he looks back-- and sees him sitting down, his back against the wall. As if he wants… 

_Oh_.

Felix swallows, nodding as he moves closer, wordlessly straddling him once more to bring them together once again, the head of Dimitri's cock at his entrance. 

He doesn't say anything as he sinks down, hissing with every moment that he has to stop, his body protesting the sheer size of Dimitri. The burning of the stretch is nigh excruciating, but he's determined. 

It takes time, something Felix is more than willing to take. His eyes are closed, his hands on Dimitri's shoulders, and he's absolutely terrified of opening his eyes. 

As if seeing Dimitri-- right now, while he still has him-- might break something inside of him. 

" _Felix_ ," Dimitri gasps as he makes it all the way down, the sound going straight to Felix's groin. "You _feel_ \--"

He knows. Doesn't have to hear it. And so, instead of allowing Dimitri to finish speaking, he moves up his cock, sinking back down in an attempt to find a rhythm, slow. 

Whatever Dimitri was going to say is replaced by a groan, the feeling of his hands on his hips as he guides him. Dimitri is the one who feels perfect inside of him. Dimitri is the one taking Felix's cock in hand to stroke _for_ him, helping guide him up and down. 

"Don't-- say anything," Felix hisses, supporting his weight by Dimitri's knee behind him for balance. "Just--"

"You're so beautiful," Dimitri says, as if openly intending upon defiance. He wouldn't even be surprised. "Oh, _Felix_ \--"

He tries to bite back the thought that Felix was certainly not who Dimitri had in mind when he said he wished he'd lost his virginity before… all of this. It nevertheless threatens at the forefront of his mind, Felix squeezing his eyes further shut. What's wrong with him? This isn't about him.

Or, at any rate, it shouldn't be. 

"I'm close," he gasps, trying to keep his voice steady. 

"It's okay," Dimitri whispers, the hand not stroking him running up into his hair, his forehead against Felix's. "I want you to."

Felix comes with a sob, his eyes opening as his jaw drops, and-- for just a moment, he sees nothing but Dimitri.

He's crying, he realizes a moment later. Silently, but-- the tears are still streaming down his face as he feels Dimitri throb and pulse as he comes inside of him. 

Ducking his head, he leans his forehead against Dimitri's shoulder, not wanting him to see. 

It's impossible not to think about how little time he has left. That this will be the last time he'll ever get to do this with Dimitri. 

_I really care about you_ , his mind offers him, broken. And then, even worse, _I really love you._

The words refuse to leave his throat, trapped there and burning hard and heavy, angry and hot. 

"Thank you, Felix," Dimitri whispers, and Felix wants to cry. 

&

It takes a bit to extract themselves from each other, Felix not bothering to try and clean up before putting his clothes on again. 

Dimitri ends up telling him that he's feeling a bit tired, not that Felix can particularly blame him, even if he wants to have more of Dimitri to himself before it's time. 

7:34 still looms threateningly on the face of his watch, but the darkness outside offers a blanket of comfort, one that seems to put Dimitri to sleep in seconds. 

It's fine. Felix needs to sort through his feelings, anyway. 

If only it were that easy. 

He can put together the basics. He's in love with Dimitri, he figured it too late, and now he's going to have to put him down like a dog. 

It's a simple thing. It just doesn't allow for any hope, any lingering happiness. He's going to be miserable regardless. If anything, knowing this is worse than if he'd never figured it out. 

Sighing, he lets his head fall back against the barrel behind him. His eyes widen. _The barrel_ \--

His breath hitches as his gaze falls upon the stack of letters. The top one, intended for him. 

It's his letter, isn't it? He should get to read it. Before he has to kill Dimitri. 

Getting up, he grabs it off the top of the pile to unfold it, Dimitri's unsightly scrawl making his throat feel tight already. 

> _Felix,_
> 
> _I'm sorry for leaving you so soon._ ~~_I'd hoped to spend the rest of my life by your side._~~
> 
> _I love you._
> 
> _Dimitri_

It takes a teardrop hitting the page before he realizes he's crying again. His hands are trembling. 

Angrily wiping his eyes with his shirt, he refolds the letter, shoving it back onto the pile. 

It's not fair, he thinks again. And yet, all the same-- 

He can't help but blame himself.

&

It's still 7:34 when the first rays of the morning sunlight come through the windows above them, and Felix finds himself wishing he had said that they'd decide at 7:35, if only so that it would never come. 

He still hasn't cocked his pistol, Felix just fingering the trigger. Looking over at Dimitri now, he doesn't look any less human than before. Any more monstrous. 

Killing him, he thinks, might just be impossible. 

If only he'd been willing to bite him, and for them to go together. 

"Dimitri," he says, the lump in his throat ever-present as he toes Dimitri's sleeping form from beside him. 

It's time, isn't it?

He feels sick. 

"Mm?"

"Boar," he says, fighting to keep his voice from cracking. "It's just a matter of time now."

Dimitri sits up, bleary-eyed and still just as handsome as ever. Maybe he should have just allowed him to keep sleeping. 

But he's selfish. Wants more of Dimitri. So much so that, when Dimitri reaches for his hand to take, he doesn't pull away. 

He just lets them wait together. 

"It's probably past 7:34 by now," Dimitri says, looking down at their joined hands.

"It'll still be 7:34 in a few hours. Let's just… wait a little longer." 

He can't stop his voice from breaking then, Dimitri squeezing Felix's hand. 

So they wait. 

And wait. 

"Felix," Dimitri whispers, Felix jolting out of his half-sleep stupor to startle awake again. 

"Mm-- what? Fuck. Has it happened?"

Dimitri shakes his head. "It's past noon, Felix."

For a long moment, he just stares at him in endless disbelief. "Are you--" Felix swallows. He almost wants to pinch himself. "Are you immune?"

Dimitri kisses him. 

"Let's find out together."

**Author's Note:**

> Yep, Dimitri is immune! Wouldn't be a proper _The Last of Us_ Crossover if he wasn't!!
> 
> Come talk to me about dimilix over on [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/androugenius)!! :D


End file.
